


Somewhere, nowhere

by Bloodiest_God



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), no beta we die like tommyinnit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 16:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodiest_God/pseuds/Bloodiest_God
Summary: Not canon compliant.Tommy thinks about a lot of things because he's dying- you don't need to be a genius to realize you sort of need your blood in your body.You can't live without dying (a few times)
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Kudos: 31





	Somewhere, nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Woo wee a vent fic because I'm tired and miserable? Yeah I think so X 
> 
>   
> Sorry if there are mistakes or things are confusing. I wrote in a way that would make sense to me :)

There's smoke in his lungs, and he can't breathe.

He can't breathe through the gas licking at his lungs, seeping gently from the corners of his mouth. It's almost poetic how the white smoke tangles itself with the surrounding air, suffocating Tommy with all its beauty. He can't breathe.

Tommy knows he's dying. There's crimson liquid all over his hands, each groove and line slowly filling up, he's given up trying to stop the blood flow. A wound to his side forgotten- there's no pain, not anymore at least.

There are two monsters in the cell. Tommy knows he's dying because he can finally see Wilbur.

His brother, his friend.

Wilbur was a monster, Tommy knows because he witnessed the descent into madness. He was awake in the darkness of the ravine, heart thumping loudly, listening to the ravings of a lunatic- a monster in human skin. He knows not to trust those warped smiles, not to anger the singing bard spinning a tale of a better life. Tommy knows denial when he sees it.

A child solider.

He's tired. Rightfully so. Tommy has fought more wars than he can count, and for once he wouldn't be exaggerating. There's a lot to unpack, and he really isn't ready. If his last moments were to be all the awful things he's seen, all the awful things he's done in the name of war- well, death would be the least of his problems.

Tommy is like a flower, his roots are strong in the soil and he craves the touch of the sun. Out in the open he's free to be himself, to explore and to love what he loves. Inside the cell he's like a flower, withering away. Petals losing colour, fading. He needs to see the sun one last time, not the burning glow of molten rock.

Wondering where it all went wrong is a different problem. He doesn't have the time to wonder why Phil was never there for him, because while it's oh so obvious, there's parts of his self-preservation that tries to hang onto the idea that no- he's not just a selfish child. Tommy is a warrior, loyal and charismatic, fighting and never running.

He doesn't like to think about how he's the least loved of his brothers.

He doesn't like to dwell on the thought that he's a liability to everyone he loves.

Reality is evidently cruel.

Sure, he's annoying but does he really deserve to die like a beaten dog? Bleeding out alone in a cell filled with all the things he hates. There's nothing poetic about that. He can smell death, it's the scent of too much blood leaving his body. He's not an idiot, he can see the thick crimson puddle mould into the cracks of the obsidian beneath him, he can smell the metallic stench- it's even worse with the sweltering heat. On the upside, having most of your blood outside your body does mean you're going to feel significantly colder.

That and not being able to move your limbs. He's really tired, obviously.

Tommy grimaces, because he feels bad for whoever has to clean up the mess. Maybe they'll be lazy and chuck his body into the lava. There's no respawn after this. Tommy is going to die.

He's aware Dream has been talking to him the whole time, voice soft and unlike anything he's ever heard. It's soothing- as if speaking to a dying animal. For a moment, Dream doesn't look like a monster, he looks human. Tommy knows that behind that stupid god complex is someone completely alone and isolated from reality. That doesn't make it okay, he decides. That doesn't make it okay to murder people, because murder is wrong. Yet still Dream whispers and murmurs his gentle words, hands limply to the side, also coated in blood- he too had tried to stop the bleeding. Turns out there are mistakes you can't fix.

There's nothing to be done. Tommy is dying and there's no salvation.

He thinks of Tubbo, who'll have Ranboo to keep him company. Ranboo is arguably a better choice, compared to Tommy anyway.

There aren't tears pooling in his eyes, and there isn't a blood covered hand wiping them away. When had Dream gotten so close?

He wants to make a noise, to tell him to fuck off, but blood pours past his tongue and down his neck. He can feel the smoke escape. Tommy stares at Dream. He sees a monster, a villain and a whole lot of regret, because no matter how disconnected you are from emotions, watching the life leave someone is unpleasant to say the least. Good, Tommy thinks. He wants to die with his eyes open, so the lone survivor will be forced to close his eyes, to feel his cold lifeless body. It's morbid and he hopes Dream will reflect on something.

It's taking an awfully long time, every second in the prison cell feels like an eternity so it's not surprising everything feels drawn out. Every blink feels like his last.

Tommy isn't angry. Tommy is tired, it's been a long day and an even longer execution.

He wants to whisper to his abuser, to fill his head with smoke. Not because he's angry, but because he wants someone to suffer like he did. He wants Dream to wake up in the frigid ocean, mouth and nose filled with salt water, lungs burning hotter than any amount of lava. He wants Dream to be terrified for the rest of his life.

When Tommy slips away finally, it's not the death of a hero.

_[Somewhere, nowhere]_

_Tommy approaches him first._

_He's.. confused. Lost, perhaps?_

_"Where am I?" He asks, simply because the stranger is yet to look up._

_Eyes behind glasses widen. Tommy's unsure of the emotion behind them, everything feels brand new._

_"Tommy?" The stranger whispers, as if to himself. Tommy is sure that it's his name, something about it seems familiar._

_He pauses, because there's an unnatural heat blooming inside his chest (Tommy is a flower, but what does that mean?)_

_"Why are you here?"_

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, how are you? Hope you're doing better than the day before. Drink water and eat something <3
> 
> If there's something confusing please ask me abt it like my mind is sometimes too quick and confusing.


End file.
